Fr. Tom W. traces his path from a family that decorated the "rhinoceros in the living room" to a sober Catholic priest.
He admits to a manic-depressive drinking cycle masked by teaching, feeling like an imposter in early treatment for lacking tattoos. His first AA meetings offered applause but no immediate cure. A 3 a.m. phone call to a sponsor cracked his isolation, forcing him to trade the Marlboro Man fantasy for actual fellowship
. The real battle landed on Step Two: shedding the arrogance that his Higher Power’s rules wouldn’t touch him. Through a sponsor’s quiet patience and a Rabbi’s lesson on becoming tov—complete rather than perfect—Tom learned that sobriety isn’t a sudden rescue but a slow filling of empty spaces.
Alcoholism, once a curse, became the very friction that pushed him into a life of shared humanity.
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